A Lullaby Of A Broken Arrow
by NonaRose
Summary: Regina Mills, a young, single mother rejected by everyone she once knew in her hometown for getting pregnant after a drunken one night stand. She moves to another town, hoping of starting fresh with her son, but what happens when she runs into her baby's daddy? Would she tell him about the product of their passionate night or would she keep it a secret? Modern-AU OQ
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story isn't meant to be a long one, maybe just two chapters or three, but depending on the feedback I'll get on it, I might consider adding a few more chapters. Let me know what you think and please forgive my mistakes, they're awful and cringy, I know.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Once Upon a Time or its characters.

* * *

This wasn't exactly how she envisioned herself spending her mid-twenties. She thought, by then, she would've graduated college, became the teacher she always wanted to be. She hoped she would've met her significant other and they would be engaged, or even married, living somewhere were strangers where strangers and no one knew the other, somewhere, as beautiful as the stars were, they wouldn't be scattered across the night sky so heavily and not quite as bright. Somewhere loud and crowded, somewhere lively like the city, unlike the town she grew up in.

And she did move, she moved to another town. Another small, wretched place where every face was a familiar face, where it was quiet, boring, and where the front page story on the newspaper was dedicated to an elderly who just turned a hundred instead of anything major. Not that anything major every happened around Storybrooke anyways.

Regina never understood how a night out celebrating with her friends ended her up where she was, but if she had the choice to undo it all, start fresh, she wouldn't. Because if it wasn't for that night, if it wasn't for all the alcohol she consumed, if it wasn't for the man she drunkenly seduced, she wouldn't have her greatest gift of all. Her son, Roland.

He was her pride and joy, everything she never knew she wanted in life. His existence costed her everything; her parents, her friends, her hometown, her dreams, but she didn't regret a thing. She would stand against the world for him.

However, as great as it was to have him, taking care of him was a struggle. He was a baby, barely a year old. He needed diapers and food, he needed constant attention and care, which she couldn't grant because of her work, so a sitter was required, and that only added more to her plate.

So she did what she could do, she did her best to ensure his life would turn out as great as it could be with the little she had to offer, and nothing similar to how hers was.

She worked every night, sometimes for longer hours, especially on days where money was tight. Unfortunately, today was one of those days. Roland's birthday was four days away, and though he was young, most likely to never remember it, it didn't mean it had to be any less special. She'd throw him a party, just a small one and invite Ruby, the girl who looked after him when she couldn't, and her grandmother, who welcomed her into her home for the first couple of months with open arms. She'd buy him a cake, or a few cupcakes, if that's all she could afford, and a couple of gifts to add to his small collection of toys. He had very little, just a stuffed fox she got him right before his birth and a toy car he picked up three months ago while they were out.

Regina pulled her coat tightly around herself as she stepped into the tavern where she worked, offering the bartender a small smile, as well as the waitress that worked there. They were both kind to her, offering a helping hand whenever she needed it, be it with financial issues or her son, but she'd always been too embarrassed to accept.

"It's a little less crowded tonight," she mused, looking through the customers. Most of them were old men, old enough to be her father, and some of them returned every night, which made her skin crawl.

"Yeah," Ashley, the waitress, agreed. "But then again, the night is still young."

"I know." Regina frowned. The sun was just starting to set, more men will definitely stop by, and she won't be off until two hours past midnight — more, if she was required. And she was sure she would stay for more, after all, Roland's birthday needed all the money she could get, every cent she could get a hold of would matter. "I better get going," she sighed and Ashley nodded, wishing her luck.

She headed back into the room specified for her and removed her coat, followed by the dress she wore, revealing the white lingerie that was hidden beneath it. Her _uniform_. Funny how she thought work uniforms only came in forms of labeled shirts and fitted suits, not this, never this. Much to her dismay, though, this was her reality. She'd been doing it for months now, not too long after moving into town, and every time she got on the petite stage in the center of the tavern, it felt as though it was her first time. She would never get used to the wandering eyes of the intoxicated men roaming her body, catcalling and asking her for more. She would never get used to the thought that she had to do this, dance, half naked, around a pole, just to keep a roof over her son's head and food in his belly, to keep him warm, shielded from the cold, to keep him safe and content.

* * *

Unlike the other men in the tavern that clearly came here for the sole purpose of ogling the brunette dancing on stage, that wasn't Robin's intention. He came to the tavern because it was the only place close to his motel that was still open at eleven o'clock and offered food, and his stomach demanded some, growling in hunger. He hadn't eaten anything since the early morning before getting lost on his way back home from attending his best friend's wedding.

This wasn't his thing, he was taught better than to view a woman as though she was nothing more than an object for one's entertainment, hence ditching his childhood friend's bachelor party and pretending to be sick when Killian announced there will be strippers accompanying their drinks. And these men, all of them, stared at the brunette as if she was nothing more than that. It sickened him, but as hard as he tried to avert his eyes, he couldn't help glancing in her direction every now and then.

It wasn't the way she moved that caught his attention, nor how little she wore, leaving nothing to the imagination, but her beauty that struck him…and how unhappy she seemed. Her eyes focused on anything but the crowd, as if while she was stuck up there, her mind was elsewhere.

He didn't judge her, he felt sorry for her. He knew that to some women, this was their only option.

"Hey, Ashely. Is she available for tonight?"

Robin couldn't help but eavesdrop as the man behind him spoke to the waitress. Did he hear him right? Was he asking whether or not the woman was _available_ for tonight? It couldn't be, he must've meant something else. But he was right the first time.

"Maybe."

He frowned, turning his attention back to his food, though his appetite was gone, lost after witnessing the old man slip the waitress some cash. It was life, but it was awful. He forced down the bile rising in his throat and spent the rest of his meal pushing around his food with his fork. Eventually, he paid and got up to leave, but as he gathered his items and slipped his jacket on, the look on the brunette's face stopped him in his tracks. She was standing still, both hands tightly gripping onto the pole, tight enough that her knuckles were starting to turn white, and her gaze was fixed over the waitress as she collected another payment from another old man, and then another one after him. His face twisted in disgust, and before he knew it, he was beckoning the waitress. He had to do _something_ about it, and he will.

"How much?" he asked and Ashley's brows creased in confusion. He repeated, "How much did they pay?"

"I…I don't think she can take another man, sir."

"That's not what I asked. I asked about how much these three paid," he reiterated.

"Fifty bucks each for an hour," she imparted.

Robin chewed on his lip for a moment and nodded. He didn't carry much cash with him, just enough to get him to the wedding and back safely, but she would benefit from it more. She looked like she desperately needed it. And, although he wouldn't be around every time it would happen, at least he could do something to help, even if just for one night. He fished out his wallet out of his pocket and reached for a pair of one hundred dollar bill and a fifty, handing them to the waitress. "This would cover three of their hours and two more should anyone else ask for her."

"S—she'll be done at two."

"Then I shall wait," Robin said, returning to sit back down on his chair.

* * *

Five hours. Someone paid _five_ hours to have her and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. She was scared and rightfully so, rich men were rare, but when they stopped by, they weren't the greatest to deal with. She was also nervous, part of her wanted to chuck the money back at whoever paid and bolt right out of the place, but she needed the money, she needed it for Roland. Therefore, she swallowed her pride and fear, and pushed aside her worries. Maybe these five hours won't be so terrible, maybe, just maybe, he might be a gentleman—no, gentlemen don't never pay for sex, but perhaps he'd be nice and gentle with her. That's a wishful thought.

Regina tightened the coat around her and stepped into the room rented for the night, immediately knocked off her feet at the man's sight. He was _young_ , unlike the others she'd seen in the tavern. His hair wasn't gray, rather a dark shade of sandy blonde, and he greeted her with a sincere, dimpled smile. One of which reminded her so much of…Roland.

Her eyes grew twice as wide and before she could find her voice to speak, he beat her to it.

"I've seen you before," he recalled, his brows knitted in thought.

And he _did_.

What were the odds that the man she seduced that night at the club almost two years ago would be the one who paid to have her for the entire night? He was just as sloshed as her back then, but just like her, he probably remembered a few things.

She hoped not, though, so she denied it, shaking her head and chuckling nervously. "I don't think we met, unless you've been here to the tavern before."

"No, it's not the tavern," he waved off, adding, "you're that girl from The Rabbit Hole, aren't you?" She gulped and pursed her lips, remaining quiet as she braced herself for the name calling. Surely he'd call her something and belittle her over the fact that she slept with him back then, and now she stripped and slept with others for money. But he didn't, he only chuckled. "I was wondering what happened to you. I woke up to an empty bed the next morning."

He remembered, and a million thoughts went through her mind.

He must be a wealthy man, he dressed nicely and he paid over two hundred bucks just to have her for the night. What if he finds out about Roland and decides to take him away? It'll be easy for him to do, she owned nothing, and she danced in front of a bunch of men, half naked, for a living. But she'd never seen him in town before and it was a rather small place, he could have just moved here or maybe he was only visiting, and for her sake, she hoped it was the latter.

"Oh, _that_ night," Regina chuckled to hide how terrified she felt. "I remember, I remember you, too. You came back for round two?"

He shook his head and sat down on the chair across from the bed. "No, none of that. I just came for dinner and it seemed like you needed the money." She opened her mouth and he quickly shut her down. "Two of the men that asked for you look like they're in their mid-fifties or maybe even early-sixties, milady. I doubt you would've wanted to go with either of them. _I_ don't want you going with either of them, so please, take the money. I want nothing in return."

That brought a genuine smile to her face. Maybe he wasn't such an awful man, but she didn't get her hopes too high over it. Sometimes people are not who they seem to be.

"Let me do something, though, as a thank you," she offered, nodding toward his groin but he shook his head immediately.

"We could talk," he suggested. "I'd really like _that_. I'd like to get to know you better, starting off with your name." He extended his hand and smiled. "I'm Robin, Robin Locksley."

"Regina. My name's Regina."

"Well, it's a pleasure meeting you, again, Regina. And it's nice to finally have a name to that mysterious brunette I met that night."

She was wrong. Gentlemen didn't pay for sex and Robin didn't, he paid for her _time_ instead. He was definitely a gentleman.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I feel bad that I forgot this story even existed. Anyways, I decided to update and I hope y'all enjoy it.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Once Upon a Time or its characters. Unfortunately, I do own my mistakes.

* * *

They talked the rest of the night away, went on for hours and hours on end. He made her laugh a lot, sharing stories of his life and his friends back home with her, as if she was one of them, not a stranger he met for the second time in his life.

He told her about the wedding he came back from, his friend, Killian's, and how much of a disaster it was. The bride's gown ripped at the back when a toddler tripped over the train, but it wasn't anything a simple needle and a thread couldn't fix, and how the cake toppled over to the ground when the family dog decided it was a good time to start chasing after squirrels. Regina gasped as she listened, and as hard as she tried to stifle in her laughter to sympathize with the unlucky bride, she failed as soon as Robin began chortling. He also shared some of his strange quirks with her, giving her the permission to laugh at him as he confessed to his undying love of pineapples on pizza and as a topping to his favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream.

But she didn't. Sure, it was odd, at least now she knew where her son's pineapple obsession came from, though.

"I keep on rambling about myself," he acknowledged with a sheepish grin and gestured over at her, "tell me a little about you for a change."

"My life isn't nearly as interesting as yours," she protested.

It was true, she wasn't interesting at all. The wildest thing that happened to her was the night they spent together, and she didn't even remember most of it. Everything before it and everything after it, though it'd been a roller coaster, it was nothing worth telling. Nothing aside from her son— _their_ son. But she wouldn't tell him about Roland, never. He was a nice man, easy to talk to, and he made her laugh until her sides hurt, but every person had a second side to them, and she didn't want to risk bringing out the side that might potentially take her son away from her.

Roland was all she had.

"I'll still find whatever you tell me intriguing," he insisted, grinning from ear to ear and, somehow, that had her worries ease up a tad. "For starters, what brought you here?"

"What makes you think I haven't always been here?"

He nodded. "Fair point, but I more so meant why _this_ place?" he emphasized, looking around the room as a reference, and she understood his question the first time anyways.

Why a stripper?

Why was she selling her body to strange men?

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," she replied simply.

Being an exotic dancer, or the lady of the night as some liked to refer her as, wasn't what she imagined herself being. But then, she never thought that one day her own parents would shun her for conceiving out of wedlock, either, and that happened. Life was cruel, it hardened her, deprived her of the person she used to be, the person she _wanted_ to be. It left her hard and cold, most of the time at least, quiet and distant, too. It shaped her into a person she didn't recognize. She wasn't unkind and cruel, and she still laughed from time to time, as she did with Robin at his stories, and Ruby, Granny and, most importantly, Roland and his silliness. But so often, her smiles were fake and her laughters were nothing more than a puff of air or a hum.

The tension in the room grew slightly and the air became thicker, and Robin must've sensed it, too, because he spoke again, "We've still got two hours left."

"Three hours passed already?" That was a surprise. The hours flew by and they usually felt like a lifetime when she was in one of these rooms.

"Sadly," he breathed out, surprising her by his answer. He stuck his bottom lip out little and continued, "I was really enjoying our conversations. It felt…nice getting to know you, Regina."

She did, too. Incredibly so.

It felt nice having someone other than Granny and Ruby to talk to, and Roland who only cooed and babbled in response to everything she said. She occasionally had small talks with Ashley and Graham, one of the bartenders who worked in the tavern, and she had the casual _hello_ and _how's your day?_ whenever she passed a familiar face on the street or popped in the local supermarket for her weekly grocery shopping. After the people of her own hometown, ones she grew up with and was close with, reacted badly to her pregnancy, frowned down at her and scowled as if she'd been found guilty of killing a man, she decided against getting close to the people of Storybrooke. It was bittersweet. She felt lonesome, but at least people won't be all up in her business.

"Are you hungry?" Robin asked. "I spotted a diner not far from here, it's open twenty-four hours, at least, that's what the sign said." As she began rising to protest, he beat her to it. "I could be wrong, but I haven't seen you take a single bite since you got on stage. And as soon as you got down, you came here. So, I don't know about you, but I'm starving." He clapped his hands on his thighs and got up, extending one toward her, beaming at her, and it was crazy how much of Roland she saw in him. Her son might have her olive skin, wild, brunet curls and brown eyes, but his dimpled smile was definitely Robin's.

She gulped the lump that formed in her throat and reluctantly reached for his hand. His hold on her was gentle, his calloused fingers felt nice lacing with her delicate ones, and his touch was warm. It vaguely reminded her of _that_ night again. The way he peppered kisses along her neck and down to her shoulders, tickling her ever so slightly with his stubble, and how when he settled between her parted legs, he dragged his fingers up her bare arms and held her wrists together above her head, then took her, giving her one mind-blowing orgasm after another.

Regina shuddered at the recollections, she could faintly feel the reminiscences of his touch ghosting over her skin, even after he withdrew his hand from hers too remove his jacket and shield them both from the rain that descended over them as they stepped outside.

Much to her dismay, it was pouring. Normally, she enjoyed the rain, as long as she was in the comfort of her home, bundled up in a blanket with a warm cup of tea and a book, or with Roland in her arms, his head resting on her chest as they watch one his many favorite movies on repeat. Lately, _Bambi_ was his new favorite, and whenever Thumper came in view, he squealed in delight and clapped — a sight that made all her troubles worthwhile.

* * *

As luck would have it, the diner was within a stone's throw. They trotted out of the rain in record time and took cover under its eaves, chuckling at the little adventure they had to face just to get from one place to the other. They were damp but not awfully so, they didn't leave a trail of water behind them as they walked in, and that was a relief. They managed to squeeze in under the small shelter right before things worsened when the thunder rumbled and the rain intensified, thicker droplets plunging heavily around them. Still, there was beauty in the storm, and beauty in the woman that was pressed against him for a brief moment.

It took everything in Robin not to lean in and kiss her at that point. He wasn't sure where the idea came from or the sudden urge that washed over him and made him want to do it, but when she lowered her head and chuckled, mumbling something about how she couldn't believe she sprinted in high heels to avoid getting drenched, and pushed a stubborn, wet strand out of her face with a darling huff, his heart stuttered and his stomach flopped with a fluttering sensation. She stole his breath away.

But he didn't dwell on those thoughts for long, he blamed them on the fact that they slept together once and left it at that, regardless of the fact that he had buried feelings that lingered after that night.

The diner was rather small, there were five tables in total, all crammed into one side and barely enough space to move between them, and there was an island with seven stools on the other side. There was a small hallway that led up back to the washrooms and a kitchen, of course. But it was nice and inviting — the same couldn't be said about the waitress that wasted no time placing the menus in front of them with a straight face, seeming more than eager to get it over with. He couldn't blame her, though, not really. It was five in the morning and she could've been working the nightshift and was tired, or she might've woken up early to get here for her morning shift; both options were just as terrible.

He cleared his throat as he skimmed through the pages and asked, "Do you think burgers are appropriate at this time or should I go with typical breakfast food?" His smile brightened at Regina's quirked brow. "What? A double-cheeseburger with barbecue sauce and crispy bacon _and_ an onion ring sounds glorious," he justified. "I'll be an idiot if I pass that up."

"You'll also be in the bathroom suffering from a horrible stomachache. It's morning," she reminded.

"But it's still dark out," he argued, waving in the direction of window. It was pitch black and with the cloud glooming over them, even the streetlights weren't much help, offering nothing but a bit of dim illuminations to help them cross the streets safely and avoid bumping into things. "So, burgers?"

"I'm not sure," she droned. He watched her pull her lip between her teeth and scan the menu back and forth, it was an adorable sight, but one more time and he won't be surprised if she memorized every dish by heart. "The burger _does_ sound good," she admitted, "but I think I'll go with either the pancakes or french toast. I'm in mood for something sweet."

She went with neither.

While he ordered his burger with an extra strip of bacon and a side of fries, and a glass of orange juice to balance out the junk food he'd put into his body and make it somewhat healthier, Regina settled on the Belgium waffles with a dollop of whipped cream and berries instead, and to his surprise, she took a cup of coffee with it. Americano with two packs of sugar. He wasn't judging her, but it was half an hour past five in the morning and she'd been awake since the day before, consuming caffeine at this time didn't seem like the brightest idea. It'll only kick more enjoy into her system.

He didn't comment on it, though, and by the time their food came out, the matter was long forgotten.

The aroma was mouthwatering and he should be eating his food, and while doing so, his mother always told him not to gawk at other people on the table and stare down at his own plate, it was disrespectful. Still yet, he found himself ogling the brunette sitting across him. Her hair dried up and frizzled a bit after being exposed to the rain, and he found himself longing to run his fingers through it as he did that night she ended up passing out in his arms.

He didn't remember much, but he remembered that, and he remembered his disappointment when he woke up to an empty bed the next morning.

She was quiet, checking on her phone after every other bite whenever it dinged with a new message, and each text brightened her smile more than the last. It had to be her boyfriend — a gorgeous woman like herself couldn't possible be single, the thought alone was impossible to comprehend. And even though he wasn't sure of it and hadn't the slightest clue who her boyfriend might be, _if_ there was one, he hated him.

His stomach churned and he was overwhelmed with the sense of jealousy. He thought of her everyday, tried his best to remember every detail of how she looked, but the only thing that truly stuck were the burnt umber orbs that bore into his. He couldn't get them out of his head and instantly recognized them when he saw her upfront. He wondered who might she be, what her name was, if he would ever see her again. By fate, they crossed paths, but fate wasn't always so kind, it seemed.

"So," Regina began, finally setting her phone on the table after tapping away at the screen for a few minutes and looked at him. "How long are you planning on staying in town?"

Her tone was unclear and her expression was almost blank, he couldn't tell if she'd be happy to get rid of him soon or hopeful he might stay longer. He shrugged. "I'm not sure," he half lied. He was meaning to leave in the afternoon, the sooner the better it'll be for him, but then he saw her again and…he wasn't so sure anymore.

He spent the first three months returning to _The Rabbit Hole_ on the weekends in hopes that he might see her again and ask her for her number. It never happened. She never came, but he never lost hope that one day she'd walk into his life again. And she, unexpectedly, did. It wasn't love, whatever he experienced, he wouldn't call it that. There was no such thing as love at first sight, that only belonged in movies and books, but he felt something toward her and those feelings were strong, they loitered.

"I thought you were just passing by," she muttered, seeming somewhat disappointed and that confused him. She had her eyes trained on him, like a hawk, watching his every move. "That you just got lost along the way and decided to take a break from driving."

She _definitely_ wanted to get rid of him.

However, he wasn't ready to let go for the second time.

"I don't know," he spoke slowly, popping a fry into his mouth. He leaned back into the seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "I've still got five days worth of days off. I might as well spend them here—"

"No!"

"No?"

"No, I…I mean…it's just…the town is lame," she stuttered through a breathless chuckle. He didn't buy it. Her excuse couldn't be the reason behind her objection, not with how her eyes bulged at his decision. There was the possibility of not wanting whoever she might be with to find out about their past and that was understandable. "You'll get bored so easily," she continued, "there's really _nothing_ worth seeing around here."

"It's nice, secluded, and I could use some peace and quiet before diving right back into work."

"But there's nothing to do around Storybrooke. Wouldn't you rather spend these five days in your home, maybe out with your friends?"

"That's always an option," he concurred.

"But?"

"But, have you ever had this feeling in your bones that tells you exactly what to do?"

Her shoulders sagged a bit and she sighed, "And I assume that feeling is telling you to spend the rest of your vacation in Storybrooke?" At his nod, she flashed him a tightlipped smile and pushed herself up on her feet. "Well," she cleared her throat, "in that case, I hope you enjoy your stay."

"You're leaving?"

"Our time's almost up, unless you'd rather do something productive for the next half an hour or so?"

Robin pushed away his disappointment, flashed her a halfhearted smile and shook his head. He'd _love_ to spend an extra half an hour with her, but he didn't want to press his luck and ruin things before they've had the chance to happen. Be it a friendship or something more. Though, frankly, he hoped for more. "Would you like me to walk you home?"

"No," she replied hastily. "No, I mean, my place is a little far from here and it's already too late—well, technically, it's too _early_. And I just…think it's better if I head home alone."

"Yes, of course." He nodded understandably. "Will I…will I see you around?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe," he repeated in a quiet murmur as she gathered her coat and purse, and walked out of the diner without a second glance.

 _Maybe_ wasn't a no. And that kept his hope alive for the time being.

* * *

"Calm down," Regina pleaded herself, repeating those words again and again on her way home as though hearing them aloud would help.

It didn't.

She was too panic-stricken by the idea of having her son taken away from her by his biological father, she simply _couldn't_ calm down. There wasn't a power in the world strong enough to help ease her worries.

Robin was staying for five more days and she couldn't possibly hide Roland away at the apartment, or his existence, for that matter, until he was gone. She wasn't close to the townspeople but they knew her, they knew she had a boy, and they'd ask, inquire of his whereabouts. Sure, she could always lie and come up with half-assed excuses and cross her fingers he'd buy them, and granted, Robin was a nice man, and if he was rich she wouldn't have guessed, he was completely down-to-earth, he was sweet and polite—still, she didn't trust him.

Regina was met with a sympathetic smile from Ruby as she stepped into the apartment at daybreak, and she offered her a small one that didn't quite reach her eyes in return as she closed the door behind her and shed off her coat.

Ruby was aware. She, unlike her grandmother, knew what Regina's late nights and early mornings meant, that she wasn't out there scrubbing down tables and cleaning after the drunk. And never once did she shame and humiliate her over her decision, she didn't look at her with judgmental stares. She shoved a glass of wine in one hand and a bowl of cookie dough ice cream in the other, then sat beside her on the couch and, depending on the day, they either sat quietly with Regina's head on her shoulder, staring directly into the wall in front of them, or watched movies until they fell asleep.

Today, however, she needed to get something off her chest.

She needed to get out of her comfort zone and talk.

"He's asleep," Ruby said, leaning against the wall with her arms across her chest, her brows creased a tad in questioning. "I fed him, bathed him and read him a bedtime story, as instructed. And _you_ ," she drawled, "look like shit."

"That obvious?" Regina let out a bitter laugh, kicking her heels to the side.

"So, wine and ice cream or movies, or both?"

"How about wine, ice cream and some talking instead? I could use some of that for a change."

"Sounds like the perfect way to start the morning," Ruby joked, drawing a chuckle out of Regina.

It certainly was a perfect way to start the heavy conversation, though.

By the time Regina wiped off all her makeup, and was out of her daytime attire and into her comfy, cotton pajamas, Ruby'd already poured them wine, filling both their glasses to the brim. It wasn't ideal, no one drank this early in the morning, but at that moment and after being smacked, once more, in the face by life, she frankly couldn't care.

It would just be one glass anyways, she won't be too intoxicated to look after Roland.

She began by telling her friend how her day started—uninteresting, as it always was, then went on about her son's birthday and what she usually did for extra cash. Ruby knew and she understood, and she gave her forearm a squeeze to continue. Then came up Robin.

Regina explained who he was and the history between them, and by the time she expressed her fears, she was sobbing.

It was a pathetic sight. Her clutching onto her wine glass while bawling her eyes out over irrational thoughts that made perfect sense in her mind. She could very well be stressing over nothing and Robin might not even want to be a part of her son's life, let alone, file for a full custody and take him away.

But she always feared the worst in any situation.

And the worst, sadly, always unfolded.

* * *

Ruby left at eight o'clock with a few words of encouragement. She advised her not overthink and take it one day at a time, and before she'd know it, the five days would fly by and Robin would be on his way, leaving her and Roland alone in their little bubble. She promised her she'd always be there should anything happen, just a phone call away. Her, Granny and the rest of the townspeople, whether she considered them her friends or not, would be there for her, too.

It soothed her worries, for now.

Regina rinsed the glasses and put away the half-eaten pint of cookie dough ice cream back in the freezer, she tidied up the place a bit, fluffed the cushions on her small couch and tossed the crumbled, used tissues in the trashcan before retrieving into her bedroom. One glance at Roland's tiny frame sprawled over her bed, his thumb in his mouth and his hair tousled, and her anxiety melted away.

Come what may, she'd fight for him.

As complicated as it might get, as backbreaking and expensive it would be, she'd put up a fight against the entire world for him.

"I love you," she whispered as she laid beside him, tucking a curl behind his ear and the infant responded to her touch by curling into her, pressing his face to her chest. She dropped a kiss to the top of his head and sighed, burying her nose in his hair, inhaling that baby scent that clung to him, and sniffled as her eyes rapidly filled with tears. "And no matter what happens, I hope you'll always know that I love you, to the moon and back, my little prince."

* * *

 **A/N:** Reviews are more than appreciated and ideas are also welcomed!


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